


Strictly Business

by PBJellie



Series: South Park Kink Meme Requests [10]
Category: South Park
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Prostitution, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 17:37:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14720610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PBJellie/pseuds/PBJellie
Summary: Tweek, a married man, meets up with a prostitute. His prostitute. Craig Tucker.Written for the South Park Kink Meme





	Strictly Business

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is written for the South Park Kink Meme, for the request 
> 
> "Married and closeted Tweek fucks prostitute Craig in a rented hotel room. Bonus if they're in love and fighting over Tweek leaving his wife for Craig. Extra bonus if this leads to intense, animalistic sex. Extra, extra bonus if they both end up crying." 
> 
> I don't know how many bonus points I got, but I hope you enjoy.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Mr. Tweak loosened his tie in the lobby of the hotel. It was really a motel, but he supposed that the fact that there was a lobby and indoor hallways was enough to bump it up according to Expedia.

It’s dingy, he thought as Craig grabbed his hand, pulling him down the hallway. Young, doe eyed Craig, can make a place this dismal seem alright. Tweek let out a breathe he didn’t realize he was holding. He wanted to tell him not to touch in public; wait a minute, they could get caught, but he didn’t. He just smiled and let it happen.

“This is our room,” his voice was nasal, like he had a cold. Tweek wanted to touch his forehead, like he does for his kid, just to check. Just to check to make sure he wasn’t sick, just in case. “You coming or not? It’s hourly, you know.” 

“Not outside,” Tweek mumbled, feeling his shoulders seize up. He doesn’t tic, not anymore. He’s off the drugs; he has been for ages. Something about being with Craig makes him feel young, like he’s just a teenager at college again, doing blow off of a strangers navel. Before his Dad died, before he inherited the coffee shop. 

He tried not to be resentful, it’s hard though. His mother was still around, as much as she ever was. Sometimes Wendy, his wife, bakes her cookies. Last week she brought her banana bread. 

God, he felt his stomach clench, like he was about to vomit. Wendy was at home with his daughter. What time was it? He checked his watch, it’s nine, right on the dot. Craig was always punctual. He had to be home by eleven. Wendy wouldn’t believe him if he was out any longer than that. With the hotel being an hour away, if he drove ten miles over the speed limit the whole way home, he had an hour. 

An hour with Craig was better than no time with Craig, he told himself. 

“You’re letting the heat out,” he smiled. Christ, he was attractive, Tweek thought as he pulled at his tie again. 

“It’s got a hallway,” Tweek tried to match his smile, but he was never as upbeat as Craig. He couldn’t do it. He was nearly thirty-five and he knew, down in his bones, that the world was garbage. He’d used that as the excuse for not wanting anymore kids. He felt awful thinking it, but really he hadn’t wanted the first. 

He hadn’t wanted to marry Wendy, either. 

It was a slapdash affair, a white wedding. Wendy told him she was pregnant, in the middle of a work Christmas party. He’d felt like his world had crumpled beneath him. He’d just decided to get sober, but he knew that it’d only be right to marry her, give her some semblance of normalcy. It’d have helped if he was attracted to her at all. 

Sometimes, during the quiet spells at the coffee shop, he’d wonder how high he had been when he fucked a woman. A woman he knew from grade school, no less. Not that anyone in town knew he was gay. Not like they could know. No, he decided long ago that the backwater redneck town he was from wouldn’t understand.

He had four blissful years of being out, then he was zapped back to reality. Life wasn’t a liberal college town. Life was complaining on the phone to suppliers all day and fighting to manage teenagers that didn’t really want a job. And to top it off, life was sneaking off with a male prostitute as your wife takes care of your kid. 

Speaking of male prostitutes, Craig sat on the bed, stark naked, as Tweek thought in the doorway. How brazen to be nude with the door open. Tweek could never do that. Craig was a person that Tweek could never be, and a part of him envied it. 

And that part that didn’t envy it, loved it. 

He loved that boy, down to the track marks between his toes. 

“Shut the door,” Craig said, a smile still gracing his face. He didn’t used to show his teeth, not before Tweek paid a dentist to fix him up. He’d told Wendy he lost the money in a bet. It’d been a huge fight, she demanded he take a drug test, and if he wasn’t sober she swore, up and down, that she’d leave. She’d be out the door with their kid, and he’d hear from her lawyer. 

He almost wished she would. 

He, of course, passed those drug tests. There was a rule, a hard one, that Craig wasn’t allowed to use in front of Tweek. He could do what, and whom, he wanted in his free time, but nothing when they were together. 

Well him, he could do him. 

“I will,” he said, as the door swung shut behind him. The boy was Adonis. He had no business looking as good as he did. His hair naturally hung perfectly around his face, even after they fucked, it was mused, but like a movie star. “I will,” he said again, even though the door was already closed. 

“Need some help?” Craig asked, rising to his feet, kicking off his boxers. Tweek melted beneath his touches, trembling ever so slightly as he undid the knot in his tie. He gulped as it fell to the ground. “I love helping you,” he cooed, voice still raspy. That’s just the way he sounded, Tweek rationed. If it was the drugs, or a natural thing, he didn’t know. He didn’t feel like he was allowed to ask. 

All people deserved some privacy, something only they knew. 

Even Craig. 

Especially Craig. 

“Did you have a nice day at work?” He asked, like they were a domestic item. Tweek chuckled, knowing this was Craig’s favorite game. Pretend they were a married couple, Craig staying home to take care of the house and the pets, not kids, he’d specified. He did, once upon a time, say that Tweek’s kid would be fine. He’d make an exception, if they could be together. 

“It’s tax season,” he huffed, which was true. He had to hunt around for receipts all day, cursing himself for not taking care of mundane tasks better. 

“Is it? I don’t do taxes. Don’t tell anyone.” Craig joked, slowly undoing the buttons on Tweek’s green button up. Craig said the color suited him. “You missed one,” he laughed, his chest rising and falling gently. Craig could do that, he could laugh just with his chest, and his smile. His eyes didn’t betray him like Tweek’s did. And, way back, before all of this, Tweek used to think he was a pretty good actor. 

In most situations, Craig had the best poker face he’d ever seen. 

“Damn it,” he called out, flinching as Craig continued to undo the buttons. 

“You ought to let me dress you,” this time his eyebrows raised, ever so slightly. Tweek had memorized Craig’s little tells. Tweek leaned in, begging to be kissed. Just stop this asinine foreplay that was almost too painful. Here, have a bite of a steak you can never afford. Wasn’t it good? Too bad, you can’t have it. 

“You’re so impatient,” Craig teased, one hand mockingly pushing him away as the other looped around his shoulders. He was a head shorter than Tweek, probably due to malnutrition. He’d told Tweek he was eighteen when they met for the first time five years ago. 

In reality, he was only twenty now. He’d let slip at the excitement of his eighteenth birthday, saying he was going to buy his first lotto ticket and become rich. Joking that he had good luck. Tweek wonders how he could have been so naive. How he could have believed a prostitute at his word. 

“I am,” he said, feeling lips against his, the sound mostly cut off. That was fine. Tweek didn’t want to talk, anyways. You don’t pay a hooker to talk, he thought to himself. They were just affable; it’s a tool of the trade. Cram as much as you can into an hour so the customer doesn’t feel cheated. It’s like that at his job, too. 

This was just work for him. Craig was working. 

“Who tops?” Craig asked, ever the charmer. “I can do all the work tonight, if you’d like a break.” 

Tweek nodded, sliding his pants off. They pooled at his ankles. Bottoming was fine. He liked it fine. He liked Craig, it didn’t really matter what they did.

Anyways, he had Wendy if he really wanted to top. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend it was Craig. He was quiet in their sex anyways, even if it was just a fear of saying the wrong name. 

He didn’t have that fear with Craig. He was so present in the moment, that he could never confuse Craig for someone else. 

“Bend over?” Craig asked, pressing on the small of Tweek’s back. His hands were cool, but not too cold. He worried about him, sometimes. Tweek would get a hotel for the night, so at least Craig could sleep inside. Tweek tried not to think about happened after he left. 

“You gonna make me?” He asked, itching for an argument. He didn’t mean to think of Craig’s other life. Craig was a whore, and he’d have another man bent over this bed, and he’d say he loved him, just like he did to Tweek. It wasn’t special; it was business. 

“Yeah, I’ll make you,” Craig giggled. “I’m not falling for it, Tweek. Let’s just have a nice time while we can. You want a nice time, right?” Tweek nodded, collapsing forward onto the bed. He wondered when the comforter was last washed, and with a single sniff, he decided it wasn’t recently. 

“This bed is gross, Craig,” he said, lingering on his name. 

“Want me to strip the bed? Like I did you?” He laughed a hollow laugh as he moved to pull the comforter onto the ground. Tweek lifted himself up just enough for the blanket to be removed. The sheets below were white enough, he decided, and leaned his head back down. 

“I want to see you,” Tweek huffed, climbing onto the bed. He didn’t want to be another ass in the air to bed. They had a relationship; they’ve had one for five years. 

“Missionary it is, grandpa,” he snorted, nose wrinkling around the edges. 

“I’m not,” Tweek felt his shoulders rise to his ears again, even from his position on the bed. There was a water spot on the ceiling, remnants of a leak. 

“I know, I know,” Craig rushed out, his figure looming over Tweek. “I’ve got a handful of lube, you ready?” 

“Just slick yourself up,” Tweek rolled his eyes. Craig was always like this. Like Tweek was delicate. Like he hadn’t been bottoming with Craig for four years. 

“I just don’t want to hurt you, geez,” Craig scoffed. 

“You won’t hurt me,” Tweek complained. He looked at the clock on the bedside, he had forty more minutes with Craig. They’d wasted twenty, just staring at each other and making small talk. It was wrong to say wasted, he reasoned, because he’d enjoyed it very much. He always did. 

“Sometimes it hurts,” Craig’s face grew cold, like he had thrown up a barrier beneath his scowl. 

“I trust you not to hurt me,” Tweek coaxed. “Anyways, sometimes a little pain is nice.” 

“Want me to fuck you hard?” And the hurt look was gone, disappeared just as quick as it was thrown together. 

“I want,” Tweek pondered, being taken by surprise as Craig threw his legs over his shoulders. He had a smile as he situated himself. “I want it,” Tweek finished. 

“I know you do, naughty boy.” 

“I’m no boy,” Tweek laughed, kicking Craig lightly with his heel. 

“You’re right, you’re a naughty man,” Craig laughed, sliding into Tweek. Tweek tensed for a moment, then willed himself to breathe. Craig was still, eyes searching Tweek’s for clues. Was it safe to move? Was he hurting? Did he want to stop? 

All things Craig didn’t have the opportunity to voice in his profession. 

“Move,” Tweek hissed through closed teeth. 

“I’m quite happy where I am,” he smiled, showing off the perfectly straight teeth Tweek had paid for. He’d earned them, though. He’d earned them in moments like this. 

“I don’t have all day,” he looked at the clock again, thirty-eight minutes. 

“I’ll move when I’m good and ready,” Craig said, rolling his eyes. He began to move, rocking in and out of Tweek gently. 

“I love this,” Tweek cried out, squeezing his legs around Craig’s shoulders, ankles hooked together behind his shoulder blades.

“I know,” Craig said, breathing in slow steady breathes. Pacing himself. 

“You don’t have to hold back,” Tweek mewled, between thrusts. “Go ahead.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Craig whimpered, hardly moving his lips. “My last guy hurt me; I just don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Don’t talk about other clients,” Tweek growled, eyebrows furrowed. “Not while you’re balls deep in me.” 

“Sorry, I just,” Craig started, slamming into Tweek. “Fuck it, I’ll hurt you. Who gives a fuck, anyways.” 

“I give a fuck,” Tweek panted, curling himself upwards, to grab Craig’s face. He pulled him in for a quick and sloppy kiss as Craig continued to move. “I give a fuck,” he said again, after the kiss.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeated, like that was the only button that worked. 

“Just come, come and we can talk about this,” Tweek sighed, pumping himself off in his hand. Craig’s thrusts became more sporadic as Tweek focused on a rhythm for himself. Craig sobbed, collapsing on top of Tweek as he came, pulling out immediately to curl into his side. 

“I’m too old for this,” Craig groaned, both palms pressing into his eyes as Tweek came silently in his hand. “I’m too old to be upset by Johns.” 

“You’re not,” Tweek said softly, wrapping an arm around him. “He shouldn’t have hurt you, whoever it was.” 

“I know that,” he whimpered, still rubbing at his eyes. “I wish it was only you.” 

“I don’t have that kind of money,” Tweek sighed. 

“It’s not about the goddamn money,” Craig shouted, pushing away. “It’s, I want, you’re supposed to be my boyfriend. I love you. It’s not fair.” 

“It’s not,” Tweek agreed, pulling him close to wipe a tear with the pad of his thumb. 

“It’s not,” he repeated. 

“Want to lay here for the rest of the hour?” Tweek asked, finagling a white sheet over their bodies. 

Craig nodded, knees pulled towards his chest as Tweek heaved a sigh. 

They laid there in silence for rest of the time, and then an extra ten minutes. Tweek would tell Wendy something came up, that there was an emergency. 

“Next week?” Tweek asked, stepping into his pants. 

“Yeah, contact me on the app.” 

Tweek gave him a curt nod as he buttoned up his shirt, missing the same button he always did. Craig didn’t offer to help him. He didn’t poke lighthearted fun at the mistake either. 

Tweek placed the money on the table, and shut the door on his way out.


End file.
